


The Third Constellation

by raven_maiden



Series: Meet the Malfoys [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A Liiiiiiiitle Bit of Angst, Caretaking (Through Sex Of Course), Dom Draco Malfoy, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Feels, Gratuitous Smut, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hermione Needs A Break, Possessive Draco Malfoy, Pregnancy Kink, Protective Draco Malfoy, Sub Hermione Granger, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:02:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23830510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_maiden/pseuds/raven_maiden
Summary: The sound had barely escaped her when the world began spinning, one hand around her waist and the other beneath her legs as she was tossed onto the mattress. Her back hit the sheets as her towel fluttered to the floor.“Spread your legs.” His eyes were liquid black as he stared down at her, unbuttoning his shirt in clipped movements.**Hermione and Draco head to the Maldives for a much-needed vacation. They come back with an unexpected souvenir.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Meet the Malfoys [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717768
Comments: 55
Kudos: 1153
Collections: Bitch Wellington: Kumatan's Smuff Squad





	The Third Constellation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kumatan0720](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kumatan0720/gifts).



> This is for my darling kumatan, whose beautiful Dramione art has helped me forget that I'm in quarantine. She deserves all the smuff. 
> 
> This is Part 2 in my Meet the Malfoys Series, but it's chronologically set before [Thirty-Five](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23597167). 
> 
> This work based on kumatan and I's headcanons of the Malfoy brood.

The first thing Hermione saw when she stepped out of the fireplace was blue. 

Blue, stretching for miles, wrapping around so wide she had to spin on her toes to see where it ended. The pristine bamboo floors led to the front of the lobby, lined with rectangular pillars of gold and glass that reflected the water and lifted to an impossibly high ceiling. She turned back around to stare at the ocean. Then her vision was obscured by a wall of black. 

Hermione’s gaze slowly flickered up to her husband. “We’re here.” 

“Yes.” Draco’s mouth pulled at the corner. “You seem surprised.” 

“It’s just—” Her neck strained as she continued looking around. “Beautiful. Even more than I was imagining.” 

He caught her chin and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. She wobbled when he pulled away. 

“Let’s check in.” 

His hand was warm and possessive on her back as he led her to the reception. Her eyes roved the room, drinking in the luxurious furniture and elegant guests. 

Taking a week in the Maldives to celebrate their ten-year anniversary had been the result of nine months of effort— six of which had been Draco convincing Hermione they should go. He’d won the argument several months ago, when she realized that a major work event fell on the actual date of their anniversary next week. 

The thought of work made her stomach churn. She hadn’t taken this much vacation time since before Lyra was born, and being away from her job brought as much anxiety as leaving her youngest child alone. 

Her phone dinged. It was a text from her mum. 

_Mr. Cuddles is filthy. Can I put him in the wash?_

Hermione’s eyes widened. 

_No. He’ll fall apart and Lyra will throw a fit. Believe it or not, we cast a cleaning charm on him just this morning._

After a few moments, three black bubbles appeared on her screen. 

_If you insist. I still think he looks terribly unhygienic._

“The name of our villa? Hermione?” 

She blinked up to find Draco and the young wizard behind the desk staring at her. “Oh. Sorry, I can’t remember. But I know I made the reservation under my name. Hermione Malfoy.” 

“Ah,” said Draco. “I thought it was under Granger-Malfoy—” 

Hermione’s brow furrowed and she began typing again. 

_I think I mentioned this already, but Lyra is NOT to have any sweets after lunch. She knows this full well but she’ll try to wheedle them out of you anyway. Stay strong._

Three black bubbles instantly appeared. 

_I thought you said no more biscuits or cookies after dinner??_

Hermione frowned and shook her head. 

_No, I definitely said lunch._

She stared impatiently at her screen. Her attention drifted for a few minutes to Draco, who was drilling the concierge on privacy and security charms. 

She reloaded her messages to make sure her latest had gone through. She began typing again just as her husband slid his hand on her back, guiding her forward. 

_Make sure Dad knows about the sweets. Lyra can sniff out a weak link. She’ll be up all night running laps around the house if she has sugar after 1 PM._

Her phone buzzed, the push notification showing a new message from Roger Granger. 

Draco promptly grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her around the corner and through a set of doors leading to the outside. His hand dipped to the small of her back, propelling her forward. 

Squinting in the bright sunlight, Hermione tapped on her father’s message. It was a photo of him and Lyra. His angle was so poor that he’d barely captured half of his face. Three-quarters of the frame were taken up by a round-faced toddler with a shock of platinum curls. 

Lyra grinned fiendishly up at the camera, her cheeks smeared with crumbs and her teeth gunked with chocolate. She was clutching a handful of biscuits in her right fist. Hermione frowned, glancing at the time—already 3 PM. 

She created a new message to her mum. 

_You and Dad are going to regret that_ . _I saw the biscuits._

Three black bubbles appeared just as Draco tugged her smoothly to the left.

_Your father is lawless. I tried to warn him against it._

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head. 

_There’s just one more thing_ — 

She broke off, mid-text. They were standing inside their villa. It was directly on the water, just like the brochures had promised, the floor to ceiling windows providing a stunning panoramic view. An infinity pool jutted into the horizon just beyond the glass, the deep blue contrasting with the glittering turquoise below. Elegant bamboo doors separated the master bedroom from a sleek lounge with two couches and a chaise. Hermione’s mouth fell open.

There was a sofa and a massive canopy bed in the master bedroom, along with more panoramic views. Draco was currently unpacking their luggage, sending monotone oxfords and brightly colored dresses soaring into a large walk-in closet with controlled flicks of his wand. 

Her phone buzzed again. 

_Stop worrying. We have things under control. If there’s a problem, we know where to reach you._

Hermione nibbled on her lower lip. 

_Thanks, Mum. Also, I wanted to give you a heads up that_ —

“Put it away.” 

“I will in a moment,” said Hermione. “I’m just telling Mum about Lyra’s new bedtime routine.”

There was a flurry of movement before her phone was plucked out of her hands and tossed onto the sofa. 

“What are you...I wasn’t finished!” Hermione lunged for it, only to be halted by a firm set of hands around her waist. 

“Leave it.” 

“ _Honestly_ — I’m almost done!” She tried to twist away, but he only held her more firmly. 

“You’ve said that four times in the last half hour. You’ve been texting nonstop ever since we left your parents’.” 

“I have n—”

“You’ve barely looked up. I’ve had to stop you from running into three bellmen, two walls, and a pram. I could walk you off a cliff and you wouldn’t notice.”

“You’re exaggerating.” Draco loosened his grip, and Hermione finally managed to free herself. She spun around to face him. “I’m perfectly aware of my surroundings, thank you—” 

“Oh? Then tell me what villa we’re in.” She stared at him, blinking slowly. He lifted a brow. “The name of our butler, at least? The one who led us here?” Heat rose to her cheeks as Draco studied her, his expression irritatingly calm. He was right, and they both knew it. 

Her shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know I’ve been awful—” 

“Not awful.” he said. “Tense and stressed.” He tugged her into his chest, tucking her head beneath his chin. 

“It’s just…” She fell silent for a few moments. “We’ve never left her alone for this long.” 

“But she’s not alone. Your parents are more than capable of handling her.” 

“I know, but I don’t want her causing them any trouble.” Draco snorted, and Hermione winced. “I mean any more than usual. You know what she’s like. The smallest little deviation can set her off—” 

“True.” His hands slid to her hips. “But that’s not your problem for the next week.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “If Lyra ends up sending my parents to the hospital, that qualifies as ‘my problem’.” 

“Only once you get home.” A long pause. “I’m taking over your phone.” 

She quickly pulled away, tilting her head up to look up at him. 

“Someone should fret about Lyra this week. And that someone is me. You’re cut off from worrying.” 

The intensity in his face made her shiver. 

“But—” 

“I said I’ll handle it. You’ve been more stressed the last few months than in the twenty-odd years I’ve known you, and that includes the time we took N.E.W.T.s.” The corner of his mouth quirked, but his gaze was serious. Searching.

“I know.” She quickly blinked away and dropped her chin, burrowing into his chest. “It feels like all I do is worry these days. If I’m not worried about Lyra, I’m worried about Scorpius—”

“Why?” His hands moved to massage her lower back. “He’s loving this. I’m sure my mother is buying him the most expensive toy in Diagon Alley as we speak.” 

A laugh escaped her throat. “Alright, I won’t worry about him either. But even if I’m not worrying about the children, I’ll be worrying about work.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m cutting you off from work as well.” 

“Draco—” Her breath left her in a slow, longing sigh. “You know I can’t do that.” 

“You can.” His voice was deceptively casual. “While we’re here, no doing work and no thinking about work. No thinking about doing work.” 

“It’s not that easy.” she said, her stomach twisting. 

“Why?”

“Kingsley—” 

“Should have prepared for your absence by now. I know Vance has. Yesterday she told me she’d demote me if I owled her on vacation.” 

Hermione’s lips twitched. “God, I miss working for her.” 

“The point,” said Draco, pressing a kiss into her hair, “is that it really is that simple.” 

“But we’re so short-handed. They’re—”

“—depending on you to do the job of three people. I know.” 

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, leaning into his chest. 

“You need rest,” he said. “And as thrilled as I am about all the responsibilities Shacklebolt has saddled you with”— she could hear him sneer— “it’s not going to cut into our time together.” 

Guilt pricked through her exhaustion. He deserved this time with her, and she couldn’t even promise it to him. 

She was ruining their anniversary before it had even started. 

Swallowing, she willed herself not to cry. “I tried to get ahead, but we have our briefing with the International Confederation next Friday. I'm sure I’ll have a dozen owls by Monday.”

“You won’t.” Draco’s grip tightened. 

“You don’t know that.”

“Actually, I do.” His tone was dark. “I told Shacklebolt that if he disturbs you, I’m going to have a little chat with Madam Lynch when I return and encourage her to move his department to the top of her audit list.” 

Her eyelids flew open. “You _what_?” 

Silence. 

She quickly disentangled herself, gaping up at him. “You _didn’t_.” 

“I did.” He shrugged, his eyes glittering. “And I’m not sorry, either.” 

“You can’t just— _blackmail my boss_ , Draco!” 

“I was doing him a favor.” He took a step forward. “They’re announcing an internal audit next quarter, and now he knows to prepare. Your position alone violates about a dozen labor laws.” 

“You are the most manipulative— scheming— sneaking—” She punctuated each word with a firm prod of her finger. 

“—Slytherin bastard you’ve ever had the misfortune to meet, I know.” He captured her hands. “You knew all this and agreed to marry me anyway.” 

Her eye twitched as he dipped down to peck her forehead. 

“Don’t be cross.” He pulled her close, ignoring her light shoves. 

“Interfering prat.” 

“Guilty.” His voice was muffled by her curls. “Someone has to stop you from running yourself into the ground.”

She froze. It felt as though all the air had been sucked from her lungs. 

“Go take a shower,” he said, after a long pause. “I’ll call for some wine.” 

Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded. 

*

The rainfall shower had marble tiles and floor to ceiling views of the Indian Ocean. Hermione was transfixed by the view as she peeled off her clothes and stepped into the shower, closing the glass door behind her. 

Five years ago, she would have marched directly out of the shower to fetch Draco. She’d have turned on the water, dropped to her knees, and sucked him off until he wrapped her hair around his fist and yanked her away. They’d have finished together, her palms on the glass, his hands on her hips as he drove into her from behind.

These days, if Hermione sunk to her knees, she wasn’t sure she could get up again. 

Things had changed in their thirties. Yet so much was the same. 

Her relationship with Draco had always been fiery. As Aurors in their early twenties, they’d fought hard and fucked harder. When they’d finally started dating, the fighting stopped and their fucking took on a new level of fierceness. 

Eleven years later, the fire was still there: a steady, burning state of being that penetrated her mind and heart so deeply she didn’t know what it was to exist without him. She loved him with everything she was. Much like she did their children. 

Sexually, however, things weren’t what they’d used to be. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t want him. She did. The way he looked at her sometimes still made her stomach swoop. He’d still kiss her at night or in empty Ministry hallways until she was dizzy and senseless with need. But the energy she’d once been able to pour into their sex life had been sacrificed on the altar of second-time motherhood and a demanding career.

Hermione turned up the temperature, rolling her neck as the water crashed over her sore muscles. 

Lyra Malfoy, born June 2009, was a pint-sized force of nature. At age three, she’d had her first trip to St. Mungo’s emergency room after eating three tubes of Hermione’s lipstick. At age four, she’d had her second trip after trying on Hermione’s discarded heels and falling elbow first. Her enormous eyes were capable of ensnaring the iciest of hearts; her delighted squeals were infectious. She was beloved by her parents and grandparents, and all her aunties and uncles. 

But from the moment they’d brought her home from St. Mungo’s, Hermione and Draco knew that she’d be nothing like her angelic older brother. 

As an infant, Lyra hadn’t slept well. She had difficulty latching. Ginny had recommended tongue tie and sleep aid potions that Lyra would instantly detect on Hermione’s nipple and wail until she cleaned off. Hermione and Draco’s sex life, which had still been fairly adventurous after Scorpius’ birth, had taken a nosedive after Lyra’s. The first time Draco had tied her up, Lyra was nine months old and had elected to wake up two hours before her normal feeding time. It had taken Draco a full minute and a half of frantically trying to undo all of Hermione’s magical restraints while Lyra wailed in the other room. 

They’d stuck to harried daytime shags and quiet quickies under the covers after that. 

To be fair, it was no longer Lyra’s fault that Hermione didn’t feel like the sex goddess she’d once been. That distinction now belonged to her work. 

When Lyra was two, Hermione had been promoted. Kingsley had selected her over three long-time veterans in the department. They lost all three employees to internal transfers within a year. Worse yet, the turnover had occurred during a year of budget cuts, so Kingsley only received funding to replace one of the vacancies. 

Hermione didn’t want to work in the DIMC for the rest of her Ministry career, but she couldn’t leave her colleagues in such a state. So she’d rolled up her sleeves and worked herself to the bone. Two years later, she still hadn’t stopped.

It wasn’t unusual for her to work ten hour days. Most nights she was too exhausted to remove her bra, let alone don lingerie. She considered it a miracle she and Draco still managed to have sex on a weekly basis, though she suspected his steely determination had a lot to do with it. 

Her mind drifted to said husband. It shouldn’t have surprised her that Draco had thwarted her from working on their trip. And yet the part of her that was annoyed was vastly outweighed by the part that was grateful. 

No one ever forced her to slow down except for him. 

Hermione rinsed the rich lather of shampoo from her hair and began working conditioner through her locks. Afterward, she simply stood beneath the shower head, letting the water pelt against her skin. 

She hadn’t planned to fully relax this weekend, but— perhaps she could. The lack of owls so far probably meant that Draco had been successful in warning Kingsley off. An impressive feat, considering that the documents for next week’s assembly were due today. 

Her blood ran cold.

_The documents._

If they weren’t submitted on time, the ICW would strike their draft resolution on Muggleborn trafficking from next week’s agenda and they’d have to wait another half a year for a vote. Her team hadn’t worked on anything else in months. 

And she’d left the documents in her office safe. 

She drew a sharp breath of air and turned off the tap. Her hand was heavy and tingling.

Perkins was probably besides himself trying to locate them. After working with her for so long, he’d never imagine her capable of such a careless mistake. 

Her vision blurred and her shoulders trembled. She threw open the door, yanked on a towel, and bolted into the other room. 

*

By the time she reached Draco, she was crying so hard she could barely speak. 

Firm hands guided her to sit on the side of the bed. “Tell me what happened.” 

“I need— to reach Perkins.” She hiccuped as tears streaked her face. “And give him the— password to my—” 

“Done. Shh.” His thumb massaged slow circles on her left shoulder. 

“I’m sure he’s— panicking right now.” Her voice shook and she gasped for air. “The documents are— due to the press secretary at six. They’re in my— safe. It can’t wait for an owl—” 

“The password is still ‘Vega,’ correct?” 

She managed a nod, and Draco stood, fetching his wand from the dresser. A quick flick of his wand and the room was filled with the low hum of his Patronus. “Tell Perkins to contact me by Floo immediately. Gate 6A22.” 

The otter bowed its head and disappeared in a streak of glimmering white and blue. 

Draco dropped to his knees again. “What else do you need.” 

“Wine,” she said with a choked sob. “Please.” 

Another brandish of his wand, and a large glass of chilled Friulano was pressed into her hand. She took a long sip, wiping angrily at her face. Draco conjured a handkerchief and dabbed at her cheeks, handing it to her when he was done. 

“Thank you.” He nodded, his jaw tense. She tried to smile, to show him that she was alright. But her muscles wouldn’t comply. 

It felt like she was breaking from the inside out. 

More tears slipped free, carving a scalding path down her face. Draco gently brushed her cheeks with his knuckles. 

There was a harsh whoosh of the fireplace from the other room. 

“Hello?” The sound of Perkins’ voice made her eyes pop. 

“Don’t move. Drink your wine.” Draco was gone in a flurry of black. 

Hermione stared at her wine glass, trying to ignore her headache and the low murmurs floating beneath the door. She tightened her towel and took a deep sip of wine. And another. On her fifth sip, her skin began to prickle pleasantly. 

The door banged open again, and Draco’s eyes were almost panicked as they locked on hers. 

His shoulders relaxed as he took her in. “It’s done.” 

“What did he—”

“It’s been taken care of. That’s all you need to know.” 

Hermione’s lip trembled, and she saw a slight look of panic cloud his features again. 

“Hush.” He quickly crossed the room to sit besides her. “There’s nothing to cry about.” 

She blinked at the ceiling as he kissed her temple, rubbing her thigh. 

For the life of her, Hermione couldn’t say why she was so emotional. She was a war heroine, the youngest ever Junior Head of the International Magical Office of Law, and a wife and mother of two. She’d spoken before world leaders; she’d held the hands of classmates as they died. She’d survived years of vicious gossip and eighteen hours of labor. 

But apparently it only took a few rough months at work to topple her. 

She’d blame it on her hormones, but she was nowhere near her period. It seemed her subconscious was determined to sabotage their time together. 

Her eyes began stinging again. 

“What else can I do.” 

Tossing her neck back, she polished off her wine. When she was finished, she drew a ragged breath and turned to face him. “Are there any sweets?” 

Draco was staring at her wide-eyed. Then he seemed to return to his body. “I saw some in the welcome basket.” He flicked his wand, and a gold box whipped around the corner and into his hands. He pried it open, revealing an assortment of chocolates. “Which one?” 

Hermione blinked down at it, her head still throbbing. “You choose.” 

He selected a truffle and brought it to her lips. Her eyelids fluttered as she took it into her mouth, relishing the flavor. 

“Another?” he said, once she’d swallowed. 

She nodded, her throat still raw. This time, her eyes were open to see his gaze flicker to her mouth. A spark shot through her veins. Whether from the chocolate or his dilated pupils, she couldn’t say. 

After a third chocolate, her stomach felt steadier, and the pounding in her head had ceased. She leaned against his shoulder, jerking her chin when he offered her more. He closed the box and floated it to the side table, along with her empty glass. Hermione sighed, closing her eyes. 

It was so nice to let herself be cared for. To not even need to ask. 

He rubbed her back. “What else.” 

She tried running her fingers through her hair, grimacing when it snagged. “I should probably go to the bathroom and freshen up a bit.” 

“Let me.” 

She startled and looked up at him, but her brush was already zooming into his hand. 

“What?” He seemed offended by her expression. “Granger, I know how to deal with your hair. Merlin knows I’ve had enough practice with Lyra.” 

It was true. With the hours Hermione had been working lately, bathing duty often fell to Draco— neither of them were cruel enough to assign it to the elves. 

Lyra had inherited her mother’s curls and her father’s fussiness. She detested shampoo, hated detangling charms, and absolutely loathed combs. If either of them accidentally tugged at her scalp, bath time would end in temporary deafness and sopping-wet clothes. 

It took a moment for Hermione to realize that her facial muscles were working again. 

A plush carpet suddenly appeared beneath her toes. The moment she blinked down at it, the bed sank about a foot. She turned to find Draco setting aside his wand and spreading his legs wide. He patted the space between them. “On the carpet, Granger.”

She gaped at him. 

“Go on.” He brandished her brush. “Let’s inspect the damage.” 

After a beat, she quirked a brow and slid off the bed. She carefully positioned herself between his knees, her eyes on the ocean as she settled her back against the mattress. “Am I supposed to play Lyra and scream bloody murder every time you catch a snag?”

“No.” His voice was low in her ear as he handed her another glass of wine. “You should save your voice for later.” And then he was gathering her hair in his hands, and her mind went blank. 

The tension drained from her body as he slowly, methodologically brushed out her wet curls. The motions lulled her, whittling away her guilt and anxiety with each tug and sway. Whenever her mind wandered or muscles tensed, he’d rub her scalp with his fingertips and she’d lose herself all over again. 

She could let herself have this. Just once. 

By the time he finished, her eyelids were drooping and head lolling, her wine set aside. Draco’s hands trailed down to brace her head and neck, his knee gently guiding her forward— and suddenly she was wide awake. 

Her spine pulled upright and she took a sharp breath. “Thank you. I really needed that.” 

The sky had shifted. The horizon was burnt orange, the azure blue now eclipsed by streaks of pinks and purple. 

Hermione frowned. “Did I fall asleep?”

Draco hummed, ignoring her question as he reached forward to massage her shoulders. The brush of his fingers sent goose pimples across her skin. Looking down, she realized that her towel had fallen, pooling around her waist. The falling sunlight was bright on her bare skin, the chilled air dancing over her nipples. 

She was distracted by his long fingers dipping to her back, carving a path up and down her spine. His fingertips skated the sides of her breasts as they wrapped around her rib cage. 

Her blood hummed and her pulse quickened. She could hear his breathing grow harsher. 

Time stopped as his hands slid forward, his pace achingly slow. His palms cupped her breasts and his fingers rolled her nipples.

She moaned. 

The sound had barely escaped her when the world began spinning, one hand around her waist and the other beneath her legs as she was tossed onto the mattress. Her back hit the sheets as her towel fluttered to the floor. 

“Spread your legs.” His eyes were liquid black as he stared down at her, unbuttoning his shirt in clipped movements. 

She did, her heart thundering in her ears. 

“Wider.” 

A flush swept across her cheeks. After eleven years of fucking, she knew exactly what he was asking for. It just had been so long. 

His fingers paused on his belt buckle. “Do you remember your safe word?”

She nodded, her skin tingling with promise. His eyelids fluttered in approval and he yanked his belt free, pulling down his pants and trousers. He stood at the foot of the bed once he was fully bare, drinking her in like a man starved. 

Perhaps she looked the same. Her eyes hungrily traced his arms and chest, following the sharp lines of his abdomen. They dipped down to his cock, hard and thick and already leaking for her.

It was so familiar, the intensity of her need for him. It had been far too long since she’d let herself drown in it. 

“Spread as wide as you can. I want to see you.” 

Her pulse was dizzy in her ears as she pushed her thighs further apart. She slid two fingers on either side of her slit, spreading herself open for him. His eyes locked on her center, and the flash of tongue she caught when his lips parted sent desire rippling through her belly. 

The aching grew with each glance, each lazy trace of her curves. With each dip of his darkened eyes down to her center. 

He palmed himself, and it was her turn to lick her lips. “Hold yourself open.” 

A whine tugged at her vocal chords, but the sharp tilt of his head had her quickly grasping her legs beneath her knees and wiggling her back into the mattress to obey him. 

This position had always been one of his favorites. She couldn’t look at him with her legs spread wide and her arse in the air. All she could do was stare helplessly at the ceiling while he pleasured her. 

Her thighs shook. 

The mattress dipped as he crawled over her, slow and intent. She squeaked when he tugged her up the mattress, readjusting her grip on her legs. 

He kissed her with lidded eyes as his tongue dove possessively into her mouth. Her neck strained for him when he abruptly pulled away, nipping a path down her chest and planting himself between her thighs. 

“Don’t let go until I tell you to.” His breath was hot on her center. 

She swallowed and nodded, tilting her hips up in a silent plea. 

“Use your words.” His voice was raw as he slid a long finger through her folds. 

A light slap to her clit had her gasping.

“Y—yes.” She was so wet for him already, and she knew he could feel it. 

She cried out as his tongue found her core, slipping inside her entrance as his fingers rubbed at her clit. He was ravenous as he tasted her, as if she could be snatched away from him at any moment. Her legs trembled when he switched, pumping one, two long fingers inside her as his tongue flicked and his lips sucked her clit. 

He had her on the edge within seconds. Her face scrunched and her nipples tightened, but he pulled away before she could shatter. 

He kissed her thigh and crawled up her body, ignoring her whines. Leaning over her, he rolled her nipples over and over as her hips bucked and her hands scrabbled beneath her knees. 

His eyes were black as they dipped to her mouth. Waiting for her to ask. 

Her lips quivered. She could tell him what she needed. He promised her he’d give her anything—

“I need to come. Draco, pl—”

He swallowed the words, his hand slipping between her thighs. Two fingers curled inside her core as his thumb circled and pressed on her clit. The other palmed her breasts, pulling gasps and sighs as he kissed her. 

His fingers paused and his mouth pulled away. “Who does this tight little cunt belong to?” 

“You! You—” 

He began pumping again, soft at first, then hard enough to shake the bed. She whispered his name as he breathed over her, begging, pleading—

“Let go.”

She crested at the words, gaining speed as she tumbled over the edge. Her legs slipped free as her vision went white around the edges, a strangled cry ripping from her throat as her body shook. 

Her eyelids had barely finished fluttering when he rolled her to her side and slipped behind her, lifting her thigh before he thrust inside her. 

She keened into the mattress. 

He panted into her neck, his hips snapping as he nipped at her shoulder. She squirmed when his hands slid between her legs. It was too soon—

His arm gripped around her waist as he rolled them over, muffling her squeak with his other hand while he braced his feet on the mattress. 

She moaned into his palm as he fucked her from below, her legs wide and her neck bared against the ceiling. Her insides pulled tighter and tighter, burning to a steady crescendo with each pump of his cock. Her eyes rolled back, her head lolling over his shoulder. 

This was his. Only he could have it— 

He growled when she licked his palm, yanking her chin to his. He released her mouth and kissed her until her lungs burned for air. 

“Mine—fucking perfect—”

He found her clit again and she whimpered, arching her back. His other hand found her breast, and each pinch while his fingers strummed her clit had her thrashing. 

He released her nipple and slid his hand to grip her face, slipping two fingers inside her mouth to steady her. She sucked, whining as he pumped faster, deeper, his other hand pressing harder on her clit. 

“That’s it. Want you to come on it—”

A few more thrusts, and she began screaming. Draco flipped them over, pinning her hands to the mattress and pounding into her from behind as another singeing orgasm tore through her body. 

“Fuck— fucking—” 

She barely registered his cursing through the sounds of her broken vocal chords. 

He fucked her until there was nothing beyond the slam of his hips and his grip on her wrists. Her mind blanked and she ceased to exist until he collapsed, crushing her with his weight as he murmured her name. 

Slowly, she lifted her fingers as he scattered kisses in her hair, searching for him. When he interlaced their hands, she squeezed with all the strength she had left. His heart thumped against her skin as he pulled her close, covering her body, caging her away from the rest of the world. 

Her breathing gradually slowed in time with his, her body full and sore and exhausted. She was still boneless when his head finally lifted and he kissed the nape of her neck. 

“I should probably cancel our dinner reservation.” 

“Mmmm.” 

“It’s at seven.” He kissed her temple. 

She cracked a bleary eye open. “Cancel it. I’m going to suck you off in the shower when I wake up, and then we’ll order in.” 

His cock twitched inside her. 

*

_Six weeks later_

Hermione Granger was late. Not just late for work, although Kingsley was going to kill her if she missed their 9:00 meeting. Her period was late. 

Normally, it wasn’t anything to fuss over. It wasn’t abnormal for her period to come a week early or late. But coupled with her recent nausea, there was cause for concern. 

She stared at the upturned contents of her breakfast and flushed the toilet, trying to remember whether she’d lapsed in her contraception potions lately. 

She’d taken her last dose two Sundays ago— she was certain of it. And she’d been especially careful with the dose before that, since it had been the week they left for the Maldives. She’d congratulated herself later for her fastidiousness, given that she’d lost count of how many times her husband had fucked her into the mattress on that trip. And the carpet. And the bath, and the infinity pool—

Her stomach churned with another wave of nausea, and she swallowed it down. Oh, God. What if the Apothecary had sold her an expired dose? 

She raced to her cabinet and fell to her knees, shuffling through the remaining vials she kept in her medicine cabinet. The first one had an expiry date of 10/15. As did the second. 

Her pulse was just beginning to slow when she noticed an odd smudge on the label. Blinking, she quickly scanned the rest of the bottle. The seal was broken. 

She felt her heartbeat rocket in her ears. 

The seal was broken on the next bottle she grabbed; there was a sticky residue on the stopper. Same with the next one, and the next. Hermione shifted on her knees, pulling out bottle after bottle. They clinked and rolled as they tumbled onto the tiles. Heartburn remedies, sleep aid, pain relief— all showed the unmistakable signs of being tampered with.

Hermione stumbled to her feet. Only one person could be behind this. 

*

“Lyra! Lyra, Mummy needs you.” 

Lyra squawked and Ceely jumped as Hermione swept her daughter into her arms and dashed out of the room. Lyra’s teddy hit the floor as Hermione’s heels clicked briskly across the hallway. 

“Mummy, you dropped Mister Cuwdles!”

“I know, darling,” said Hermione, breathless with exertion. “Mister Cuddles needs a little nap right now.” As soon as they reached the master bathroom, she set her on the floor.

Lyra stomped her foot. “Mister Cuwdles isn’t tired!” 

“Love—” Hermione smoothed an unruly curl as she crouched to her level. “I need you to listen carefully. Have you been playing in Mummy’s cabinet recently?” 

There was a glint in Lyra’s eye, followed by a churlish pout. She dropped her eyes. “No.” 

“Lyra, look at Mummy.” 

Reluctantly, she obeyed. 

“Did you play with these?” Hermione picked up a bottle with a glaring brown smudge on the label. 

Lyra jerked her head, her hair swishing wildly. 

“Darling, this is very important.” Hermione leaned forward on her toes, catching a sliver of gray amidst the riotous platinum. “I need to know what you did. You won’t get in trouble, I promise.” 

Lyra’s eyes grew large and guilty. Her lip trembled as she raised her chin. “I made a new potion. Like Daddy and Scorp-us.” 

“I see.” Lyra’s face began tilting, and Hermione quickly braced her arm on the counter to steady herself. “Did you use your play cauldron set?” 

A curt nod. 

Panic surged in Hermione’s chest. “Did you drink it?” 

Lyra jerked her head. “I put it back. I even cleaned up with Daddy’s towel.” She kicked a stray vial with her bare feet. “I made Mummy the best potion!” 

“Thank you for telling me, sweetheart.” Hermione wobbled to standing. “Ceely!” 

The elf appeared in a crack. 

“Ceely”— Hermione struggled to keep her voice calm—“Can you take Lyra back to her bedroom, please?” 

Hermione was out the door before she could respond. 

*

Draco was laughing with Scorpius over breakfast when Hermione crashed into the room. His face froze the moment he caught sight of her. 

“Draco—” 

“What is it?” He shoved his chair back and stood. 

Scorpius whipped his head to look at her. His expression grew fearful. 

“Nothing serious. Sorry to frighten you.” She hid the tremble in her lips with a tight smile. “Scorpius, I need to speak with your dad about— work. Can you finish breakfast in your bedroom?” 

Scorpius’ eyes rounded. He turned around to glance at his father, who cocked his head in the direction of the door. With a scrape of a chair and a clatter of china, Scorpius was gone. 

Draco quickly cast a silencing charm, zeroing in on her. “What’s wrong.” 

“Lyra got into my contraceptive potions.” 

The blood drained from his face. “Shit. Do we need to take her to St. Mungo’s?” 

“She didn’t drink them.” Hermione let out a hysterical laugh. “She _ruined_ them.” 

A crease appeared between his brows, like a twitch. 

“She mixed up all my medicines in that stupid cauldron set your father bought her. And then she put them all back.” Her lungs rattled as she drew air. “I don’t know how I didn’t catch it sooner.” 

Draco blinked once. Twice. “That doesn’t mean—”

“Right,” she said bitterly. “It’s not like we had sex about three dozen times on vacation. And it’s not like I’ve been inexplicably nauseous the last week.” 

Her inhales grew quicker, sharper. 

Draco quickly crossed the room and guided her into Scorpius’ empty chair. “Breathe. It’s alright. It’s going to be alright. Even if you’re— if we’re—” 

His eyes bugged and his mouth closed. He worked his jaw for a moment before he began pacing, running an agitated hand through his hair. 

Hermione grew dizzy as she watched him move until he abruptly spun around to face her. 

“Have you—” 

“No.” 

“Do you want me to—” 

“Yes.” She curled her fingers into fists, screwing her eyes shut. 

Time slowed to a crawl as his footsteps grew nearer, pausing in front of her knees. She was just about to open her mouth and ask him to get on with it when he muttered the spell. A familiar warmth washed over her abdomen, and he dropped to his knees. 

Her eyes flew open. He looked like a bludger had hit him squarely in the face. 

And then she knew. 

“We’re going to be parents again.” 

He cupped her face in his hands and searched her eyes, his expression carefully blank. Taking a deep breath, she gripped his elbows. Her lips curved in a wry smile. 

A flicker of relief in the gray before his eyelids closed. He pressed his forehead to hers and they both sighed, breathing deep. 

“This is a disaster,” said Hermione, after some minutes had passed. 

Draco shrugged. “We always talked about having three kids. It was only—” 

“—when we realized Lyra was direct retribution for all our sins that we decided to stop at two. Yes, I remember.” 

He let out a breathy laugh. 

“I love her, I really do…” Hermione rocked her forehead against his. “But I don’t know how we’re going to survive another 12 years of this.” 

“With gratuitous use of our parents. And we’re hiring two additional elves.” 

She kissed his nose. “Probably not a bad idea.” 

“You know, Granger.” Draco pulled away, his face growing serious. “This could be a blessing in disguise.” 

“How?” 

“For one, you’re going to have thirteenth months off work. Some time away might help you reevaluate.” 

She stiffened, and he grasped her hands. “I know you care about Kingsley. But that’s not a good reason to work yourself into the ground. Especially for a job you don’t love.” 

She said nothing, watching him interlace their fingers. 

He seemed to consider his next words carefully. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about Merriweather retiring soon. Perhaps the timing will align for you to apply to her position.” 

Blinking, she looked up at him. “She’s Chief of Staff for the Minister. I couldn’t possibly—” 

“Go after the job of your dreams?”

She cleared her throat and shifted in her seat. “I’ll think about it.” 

“Good.” He skated his thumbs across her knuckles. “The second benefit is that having a younger sibling could be good for Lyra. Make her act a bit more responsibly.” 

Hermione lifted a disbelieving brow. 

“Or she’ll corrupt them,” he said grimly. “And in that case, you and I will both have heart attacks before we’re forty.” 

“The latter is far more likely.” 

“Probably. Third,”— he gaze dropped to her lips— you’re going to be pregnant again.” 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Her eyes narrowed. 

“Your tits are going to be huge.” His pupils darkened. “I thought they looked bigger lately—” 

“ _God_.” She couldn’t help but laugh as she shoved his shoulder, throwing him off balance and forcing him to stand. 

He grinned at her, offering his hand. She took it, and he pulled her off the chair. He claimed her lips in a gentle kiss that grew harder and more heated as his hands roved her body. 

“Don’t let Kingsley keep you too late,” he whispered, moving his palms to cup her breasts. “Fuck. I’m getting hard just thinking about it.”

Hermione’s eyes fluttered open. “You do realize that you’re the worst.” 

He squeezed firmly. “That’s the father of your unborn child you’re disparaging.”

Snorting, she disentangled herself and headed for the door. 

“Are you happy?”

Her feet froze. He’d said it so quietly she almost hadn’t heard him.

Slowly, she turned around to face him. His eyes were fixed on the floor. He looked strangely vulnerable. 

It had been a while since he’d gotten in one of his moods. He’d veer somewhere dark and self-loathing, and only she could snap him out of it. 

She crinkled her nose. “What a ridiculous question.” 

He glanced up at her.

“I have two beautiful children and a wonderful husband who I love enough not to castrate even though he accidentally put another baby in me. I have more money than I need, more friends than I can keep track of, parents who love me, and in-laws who finally stopped hating me after a decade.” 

His eyes widened. “It wasn’t _that_ long—”

“I may not have planned to spend the next eight months horny and the size of a house, but we have everything we need to love and welcome another baby in our lives. So as long as you keep fucking me with that glorious cock of yours, yes, I’ll be perfectly happy.” 

He opened his mouth. 

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m late to work.” She spun on her heel and left. 

He followed her into the hallway. “If you’re not home by 6, I’m coming to your office and shagging you into your desk.” 

“Have a lovely day,” she said over her shoulder. “Don’t wait up.” 

“Consider yourself warned, Granger!” 

Laughing, she waved him off. 

  
  


**

Art by [kumatan0720](https://kumatan0720.tumblr.com/). Catching me crying at the constellation of [Leo](https://raven-maiden.tumblr.com/post/615034387412729856/) in the background 😭💕

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed, lovelies. Please be sure to give kumatan0720 all the love for being a talented, generous angel. 🥰
> 
> I also want to thank my dear [Lovesbitca8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovesBitca8) and [Graendoll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graendoll) for their alpha help. They both write incredible Dramione so please check them out. 😍
> 
> I'd love to know what you think, if you're so inclined! 
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://raven-m-3.tumblr.com)! ❤️ 
> 
> Follow kumatan on [Tumblr](https://kumatan0720.tumblr.com/)!❤️


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